


The Reunion

by kimjibyung



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Crying, M/M, Reunions, Sad with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:03:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21835105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimjibyung/pseuds/kimjibyung
Summary: Reunion prompt of Kris Wu and Kim Junmyeon
Relationships: Kim Junmyeon | Suho & Wu Yi Fan | Kris, Kim Junmyeon | Suho/Wu Yi Fan | Kris
Comments: 2
Kudos: 99





	The Reunion

It had been twelve years. Junmyeon had just been discharged from his services in the army, and it wouldn’t be long before he was thrown back into the game of touring, singing, performing, and being back with the group. It was a bit heart-warming to be back where he loved, on stage in front of millions as he sang and performed, but it also made him exhausted just thinking of it.

After all the training and drills and the daily life as a soldier while he was serving, he wanted nothing more than to get away and take a breather.

So he did just that.

With permission, of course, from the bosses. He was allowed a vacation and he took it. To where else? The perfect city for lounging around and beautiful scenery, the perfect resting place. Paris. He’d came here before with Sehun and they had a blast, but now, he was by himself. Alone in this giant city where the only beacon he knew of was the Eiffel Tower that stood in the short distance from his hotel room.

As he looked out over the hotel’s balcony from his room, he felt like he could finally breathe a breath of fresh air. It left him calm, relaxed, and at peace.

At least until his phone buzzed with a message. From Sehun.

** _My Sehun:  
Kris hyung is in Paris too._ **

He didn’t feel anything from that text message. Years ago, he would’ve freaked out or felt his anxiety creeping up and trying to strangle him, but now? Nothing. Not at all.

Besides, it wasn’t like they would run into each other in this big city. Kris was probably here for some kind of public appearing, maybe he’d just released a new song or starred in some new movie and that was the reason. Maybe it was even for some fashion event. It wasn’t like Junmyeon kept track anymore.

He’d learnt not to.

Bygones be bygones, and the hurt inside him wouldn’t linger if he didn’t do things to feed it, he’d learnt the hard way, but he’d dealt with it and that was that.

Right?

Right.

And so he turned back to the scenery in front of him, the semi-busy streets below him, the different colors of the buildings that surrounded the hotel, the different scents that filled the street, and then all that led up to the sight of the Eiffel Tower standing proudly. He glanced around at the sky, clear, cloudless, the sun was starting to sink behind the horizon though. And all he did was stay in that spot for who knows how long, leaned up against the railing, and people-watching occasionally before turning to watch something else.

It was peaceful. The gentle breezes, the chirping of birds here and there, it was relaxing.

The only thing that stirred him from his peaceful state was the soft knock on his hotel room. Room service bringing him his dinner. So he turned back towards the balcony doors to go in when he caught the sight of someone else outside on the balcony of their hotel room’s, much like himself, admiring the sights.

The person never did turn towards Junmyeon’s direction and he disregarded any of the physical features, set on getting something in his stomach and then possibly retiring to bed early that night. He was tired, and he felt like he could go right off into pleasant dreams in no time.

The next day, he decided to explore the city a little, the language barrier was a bit overwhelming at times, but Junmyeon was no quitter. He had his little dictionary of Korean to French translation and he was using it to his best knowledge. Luckily, most people spoke a decent amount of English to where he could just say whatever he wanted in English and then was on his way.

He tried the different breads, a tip from Minseok that he decided to try, liking something that were sweet, some were too sweet, others were bland, or just tasted like regular old bread. Then the cafes were next. He enjoyed the different coffees most. They went well with some of the sweet breads.

On his way back to the hotel, he noticed a building that was surrounded by fans and security. He pulled his scarf up and lowered his hat so no one would notice him, as he kept on his way back to the hotel. A funny thought crossed his mind, maybe Kris was in that building? He shook it away and kept on his course back to his room.

After he finally got back to the hotel, he shed off his clothes and went to shower. The one thing he hated more than anything was the fact that that question still lingered in his head. What if Kris was in that building he passed? What would’ve happened if they had seen each other? Would they go on about their way like they hadn’t seen each other? Would they stop and talk?

He doubted the last one. Why would they? What was even left to talk about?

_The shivers down his spine made his stomach jump as that hand worked down his back, those lips traced over the skin of his neck, teeth nibbling, he felt warmth, heat, passion, scolding hot—_

He shut the water off and stepped out of the shower. Enough of those thoughts. He was fine, and that was that. He was here to relax in Paris, not try to start an old flame in himself that he couldn’t even do anything about.

That night, since it was a clear and cool night, he decided that after dinner, he’d enjoy himself with simple star-gazing. The Eiffel Tower was a beautiful sight at night, as it was in the daytime. The lights were mesmerizing to watch, coupled with the half-moon overhead and the many array of stars twinkling.

He’d poured himself a glass of red wine that he’d picked up at one of the markets earlier that day and slowly sipped at it. Enjoying the bitterness that helped mellow him out. He heard the opening of the balcony doors from the room beside him but paid no mind to it, still simply enjoying the sight of his surroundings.

He supposed he should text Sehun and the others and tell him that he was doing okay, and maybe give a small call to his parents, but that could wait. Maybe in the morning, or whenever would be the right time with the time differences. He brought the glass up to his lips for another sip before realizing that it was already empty. Sighing to himself, he pushed him up from the balcony railing to make his way over to the bottle on the ledge and poured him another glass.

That’s when he happened to look over towards the direction of the other person standing on the balcony, much like himself, watching the stars. But what had him freezing up was when the person looked over at him, and he knew that he had to be dreaming. Because there was no way that those eyes, those lips, that nose, that perfect jaw line, there was no way that could belong to who he thought they belonged to.

Glancing down at his wine glass, he chalked it all up to him being drunk. Yes, that’s what it was. He was drunk, it was a strong wine, it was obvious that he was drunk, and since he had those lingering thoughts earlier and the wondering thought of Kris earlier that day, that’s why he must’ve been seeing things right now.

“I thought that was you,” the person said, and honestly, it sounded a lot like that old familiar voice. Junmyeon was sure of it now. He was drunk. So that meant that he didn’t need this second glass, he was good for the night. It was getting a bit cool outside, he was tired, and he was obviously already having delusions.

The best solution? Go to bed now.

So he did just that, picking up the bottle and glass and promptly walked back into his room, closing the balcony doors behind him without sparing another glance at the person that was definitely not _Kris_.

He put away the glass and the bottle and walked over to the bed to turn down the blankets before going into the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face, just the usual nightly rituals.

However, while he was right there, staring at his reflection with a mouthful of toothpaste and his toothbrush, he didn’t think that he’d hear a soft knock at his door. Room service? At this hour? A second thought started to pop in his head but he shook it away, damning it from entering his head.

He spat out the toothpaste into the sink and rinsed his mouth out before stepping out of the bathroom to head towards the door of his room. And just as he opened the door, he wished that he’d just went straight to bed, that he was already dreaming, because that’s the only way he could’ve imagined the person standing right there outside his room. Staring at him with apologetic eyes that made something in Junmyeon hurt, _ache_.

“Junmyeon—” There was that voice again, it was coming out of those lips that looked so familiar, he wondered if they even felt the same as before. The only thing that was different was the glasses that sat on the person’s nose, _just for style_, he recalled those distant words. This person couldn’t be him though, why would it be him? Why would he come here now of all times? After all these years, why now?

“I’m dreaming, aren’t I? Or I’m just really drunk and seeing things, and apparently hearing things since I heard you knock,” Junmyeon replied, nodding to himself. “Yeah, I’m drunk. You’re not really here, why would you be, huh?”

It looked like those words pained the man in front of him to hear, but something inside Junmyeon was aching a lot worse than just this man’s pain. It felt like everything that he’d bottled up and dismissed, brushed away, was coming back, all in tenfold. It hurt, it ached, every memory of them together, every sweet little nothing that was whispered here and there, the touches, the hand-holding, the intertwining of their fingers and then there was nothing. Nothing left. An empty space. A blank. And Junmyeon was there to pick up the pieces, or at least, try to. To go on with a happy smile as if he hadn’t had his insides ripped out and sent through a paper shredder.

“Junmyeon, you’re not dreaming… I…” Kris looked flustered, looking for words to explain his appearance, “I thought that was you on the balcony, I’m sorry for disturbing you… but I… I,” he took a deep breath, one that seemed shaky, “I had to see you again.”

And honestly? That’s what broke the dam for Junmyeon. If anyone asked, it was because he was drunk that the sob ripped through his lips, it was because it was a strong wine that tears filled his lips, the bitterness was what made him tear up, yes, that was it. It was too bitter. Too bitter for his taste buds, despite there being a minty flavor on his tongue now.

What made him cry harder was the way that Kris didn’t even hesitate to take the man in his arms and hold him, a tear or two making its way down his own face. Junmyeon allowed himself to be held by the same arms that belonged to the man that broke him, he allowed the man to try and comfort him, because this is what he wanted all along. To be back in those arms, despite everything, he just wanted to hold the man to him again.

He would scold himself later for being weak, and remind himself with foolish denials about him being drunk as the reason for all this, but for now? He would take what he could.

It seemed like hours later before Junmyeon finally calmed down, and when he did, he realized that he was lying on his bed, on his back, and when his eyes focused, he saw the white ceiling above him. He couldn’t remember how he’d gotten over to the bed, but he assumed that Kris must’ve moved them there, and it would also explain why the taller man was still there. Because there was an old familiar arm around his waist, as a body was lying on its side, facing him.

“You okay now?” Kris’s voice mumbled against his pillow, causing his head to turn and see the man watching him. Those glasses had been lost somewhere, leaving behind reddened and wet eyes. “I’m sorry, Junmyeon.”

Junmyeon glared at him, but there wasn’t any heat left in it, he didn’t feel capable of producing it, he felt tired now. Exhausted. Until finally the glare dispersed in just a watery gaze. “You left me. You left _us_.” And while he knew the reasons behind those accusations, and the reasons behind Kris’s departure, it still didn’t hurt any less. Especially when the man didn’t even say anything to Junmyeon about it to begin with, and he thought they’d shared more than enough of themselves to where he could’ve been trusted with that little piece of information…

That was so long ago now. Twelve years, how ironic, Junmyeon thought, when they used to be twelve together.

The arm around him slowly let go of him and Junmyeon wanted desperately to put it back, where it belonged, but he refrained. Watching as Kris sighed, his eyes lowering to avoid Junmyeon’s gaze.

“I did… and I’m sorry. You know what my reasons where for that now though.” Junmeyon did, and then Kris’s gaze found his again. “I don’t regret leaving SM, I don’t, but I also don’t regret my time with the group, nor my time with you. The group was like my second family while I was away from home… but the way the company was… and still is…” He shook his head, “I had to get out.”

Junmyeon understand that, it was the reason why a lot of artists left, especially foreign artists. He understood it, and he knew about it. Luhan and Tao… it was the same. But the only difference was that those two hadn’t promised a life with Junmyeon, they hadn’t promised to love him for the rest of their lives, they hadn’t kissed one another, shared secrets, shared skin, anything of the sort. Not like Kris had with Junmyeon.

“I hated you, Kris,” Junmyeon finally said. “For the longest time… and I admit that I was jealous of you,” he sighed softly, finally breaking his gaze from Kris’s to look over the man’s appearance, still flawless, still beautiful, still handsome as ever. His styled hair that was a bit ruined now, his gold necklace that suited his skin color, leading down to the white and black button-down shirt, to the leather belt, then the black slacks. Standing in the doorway earlier, he looked like a vision of power. And Junmyeon suddenly hated himself for ever wanting to hold the man back from reaching this level of success.

It still didn’t take away from the hurt from his heart, the ache that was still there, but it did take away from heat and spite from his words. “But power… and success looks so good on you.” And then he spoke the words that took him forever to come to terms with, but it was the truth. “You would’ve never reached this level if you’d stayed behind with us.”

Kris shook his head, his hand coming up to cup Junmyeon’s cheek, “If the company had done me right, I would’ve stayed behind to conquer the world with you, whether it was to this level or not. I would’ve still been by your side.”

And that just left Junmyeon with a question he had to ask, he’d been dying to ask for the longest time, he wanted to know the answer to it, “Do you,” he reached up to cover Kris’s hand with his own, “do you still love me?” He quickly closed his eyes to avoid looking into those dark eyes, for fear of facing rejection.

Kris was quiet for a moment, “Junmyeon, open your eyes.” His thumb brushed against his cheek softly, causing Junmyeon to peek one eye open, “Did you really think that I had fallen out of love with you?”

Junmyeon’s other eyes opened and he shrugged, “After all this time, I didn’t think I could hope that—”

“I do. I still love you, dearly. If you have been keeping up any scandals or anything of the sort of mine, it’s all just publicity stunts. You’re still the one.”

_You’re still the one._ And the dam busted again. Junmyeon curled closer into Kris as he cried, sobbed, and clung onto the man. And Kris held him, close, murmuring his apologies, and murmuring the words that Junmyeon had longed to hear from him again.

He thought that he was over the man, but everything was coming back in a tidal wave and Junmyeon felt like he was drowning in everything.

“I love you, Kris.”

The next morning, Junmyeon woke up to an empty bed. Was it all just a dream? His eyes felt crusty from dried tears but then again, he could’ve drowned himself in his memories last night and cried himself to sleep. It wasn’t something that hadn’t happened before.

But when he sat up, there was a note on the bedside table, and his heart was caught in his throat when he picked up, recognizing the handwriting.

** _Early morning meeting, sorry that I couldn’t stay until you woke up. I’ll be in the city for another two days before having to leave for my schedule, I’ll be back in my room by five this evening. Come by?_ **

** _Also… call me or text anything you want, Junmyeon? Here’s my number. ###-####_ **

** _I love you._ **


End file.
